


Easy mornings

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, amanda had a Scene phase ok, basically canon, gratuitous fluff, slice of rowdy life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 11:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: An otherwise lovely slow morning is interrupted by a sour memory from Amanda's past... a memory with bad hair and questionable accessories.





	Easy mornings

Mornings had never been a favourite of Amanda’s. In a life full of nothing to look forward to, mornings were a time of day marked as ‘ugh’, followed by ‘bleh’, often with a dash of unbearable pain to keep on her on her toes. But all that was before. The pain was still a present tense kind of thing that lingered and hurt, but the Rowdy Three quite happily replaced her need for a zillion ineffective pills. Life was infinitely more preferable outdoors, with friends, with a purpose... not to mention a killer wardrobe.

These days, mornings were relished. Amanda was usually first awake and she loved nothing more than watching the others come to life. Gripps always did a quick count of how many seconds or minutes of sleep he got and let everyone know. It was crucial information to him, and therefore crucial to everyone else. Cross roared himself awake and told the first joke of the day, laughing before he got to the punchline. Vogel stretched like a boneless cat before going from horizontal to vertical faster than Amanda’s eyes could follow. Beast did a cautious patrol of their territory like an attentive guard, sniffing the air and assessing possibilities for danger. Martin was usually already awake, enjoying the show just as much as Amanda. 

As whispers of light streaked the campground, empty save for one Oh No Mobile and some snoring punks, Amanda waited, knees tucked up to her chest, watching. Her delighted anticipation was ruined by the buzz of her cellphone in her pocket and she got that _tickle_ in her head that meant a whackadoo witchakookoo moment was about to go down. A slightly resigned sigh escaped her as she looked at her phone. 

“Todd?” A text didn’t usually warrant a push from the universe. Amanda opened the message and her stomach dropped a hundred feet. 

“Drummer?” 

Amanda flinched and tucked the phone away quickly. “Martin, hey. I didn’t hear you.” 

“Weren’t supposed to.” 

“Why are you sneaking around?” 

Martin looked at her oddly and sat beside her. “I believe it was you who told me not to use a tree too close to your sleepin’ bag first thing in the mornin’.” He watched her obvious discomfort and frowned. “Why do you smell like fear?” 

“That’s a bit much to say first thing in the morning.” 

“Drummer, what’s goin’ on?" 

Amanda couldn’t push the bad vibes down far enough, and lying was a useless exercise. “It’s just a message from Todd, no big deal.” At the mention of Todd’s name, Martin snarled, and Amanda hurriedly tried to shush him. “Don’t wake them up, ok?” 

“What’d he do?” Martin might have stopped growling but his energy seeped to the others and they started to stir. 

“Nothing, ok? It’s fine. Totally fine. Everything’s just… peachy keen.” 

“Lies are my least favourite flavour of you.” 

“Todd is my least favourite flavour of brother.” 

“That ain’t news.” Martin heard the buzz of the phone again and looked at Amanda’s pocket. “He gonna make you afraid again?” 

“It’s not fear, ok? Not quite.” Amanda glanced at her phone. 

Martin’s nostrils flared. After a deep inhale, he stilled. “What’s so embarrassing in a phone?” 

“You have to promise not to laugh, ok?” 

Of course Martin cracked a smile. “Would I laugh at you, Drummer girl?” 

Amanda rolled her eyes and pretended to wilt sideways. “Your hobbies are drinking, fighting, and making fun of me.” At that Martin laughed properly and Amanda tried to cover his mouth. “Stop it! You’re not helping.” Martin ducked his head and feigned surrender. “If I show you… you have to promise not to laugh. I mean it,” Amanda glared, spying the glint of humour in Martin’s eyes. “No laughing allowed.” 

“Scout’s honor. I won’t laugh at you.” 

“You were a boy scout? Oh, we are totally coming back to this later,” Amanda promised. With one last look at Martin, she held up the phone and watched Martin squint at the grainy picture on the screen. 

“What is it supposed to be, exactly?” 

Amanda’s cheeks went red. “Me. That’s me, when I was a teenager, going through a super awkward phase.” 

Martin looked from the photo to Amanda and back again. “It’s hard to see under all that hair-” 

“I told you not to laugh at me!” 

“I ain’t laughin,” Martin said quietly, a hint of a smile pulling his lips. “What’s wrong with it? You look pretty normal to me.” 

“Of course you’d say that,” Amanda deadpanned. 

“Aint nothin wrong with it,” he insisted and gestured to the phone, “that smile is all yours.” 

Amanda looked closer at the old photo and was a bit surprised to see that she had indeed been smiling. She was behind a brand new drum kit, sticks in hand, her scene-era fringe in full effect and obscuring a lot of her face. There was a lot of stripes and probably an ironic shirt of some kind happening. Mostly those photos made her die inside; no one was ever proud of awkward teenage bullshit. 

“Todd sent you this?” Martin asked. 

“Yeah. He must have found it somewhere. He always liked to… _remind me_ of being this like, awkward teenage mess. He’s older than me, right, so obviously he outgrew all that shit way sooner,” Amanda explained. She tucked her phone away. “I only checked it coz I got a _nudge_.” 

“A _nudge_ about an old photo?” 

Amanda shrugged. “It’ll mean something later. Or not. Whatever.” 

“I don’t get why it makes you so… ashamed. You were just a kid. Kids ain’t smart, that bit comes later.” 

Amanda gave a very small laugh. “You don’t get it. Todd got to see me be awkward as shit, but he was always my hero. I thought he was so cool. Like, his awkward teenage crap was still the coolest thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to be like him so badly.” 

“I’m glad you ain’t like him.” 

“Uh, yeah, me too. Now. But every time I see those kind of photos, or remember back then, or whatever, it’s like, the memories of him making fun of me? They aren’t protected any more. There’s no love to soften the hurt.” 

“Tastes like half a truth in there, Manda.” 

“Not enough love to forget how much it hurt,” Amanda corrected herself. She shrugged and forced a little smile. “I don’t like remembering how much it hurt.” 

Martin nodded and scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Your brother’s an asshole, and I’m gonna punch him about thirty more times than I already planned on, next time we bump into him.” 

“Only thirty?” 

“I’ll make sure Gripps keeps count,” Martin grinned. “Drummer, you were happy in that photo. One thing I know about memories? Take that happy with both hands.” He met her eyes and tried to keep the sadness out of his face. “Take that happy and don’t let go. To hell with Todd. Don’t let him take your childhood from you.” 

_Like Blackwing took it from you?_ Amanda couldn’t say it aloud; she still hadn’t managed to figure out how to talk to grown men about their trauma. She looked away and changed the subject. “I just don’t know if I can be proud of this mess. Come on, I’m wearing two belts for fuck’s sake.” Amanda yanked the phone from her pocket and shoved the photo in Martin’s face. “Why is there two? _Neither_ of them are holding up my pants! And do you know how much hairspray was involved in that hair? Do you? I inhaled more hairspray than cigarettes.” 

Martin snorted and Amanda promptly shoved his shoulder, sending him slumping sideways and snorting more. “Truce, truce!” Martin laughed, one hand raised in surrender while the other held out a pack of cigarettes. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ a dumb kid. We all were one, once. I tried to smoke a cigarette when I was eleven and I yakked _everywhere_. Even got it in my shoes.” 

“Oh yeah, so much has changed,” Amanda laughed as she took a cigarette from the pack. “You definitely didn’t puke in your boots last week, no ma’am.” 

Martin laughed with her before lighting their cigarettes and leaning back. “It was only a little bit. If you don’t have to tip it out, it don’t count.” 

Amanda held a serious face for about half a second before she burst out laughing. “Wow, thank you for that visual, I will keep that in mind.” 

“Besides, no matter how weird you think you were as a kid, it all went into makin’ you, _you_. Now I don’t know about you,” Martin said, taking a drag, “but I wouldn’t change it.” 

“Really?” 

Martin nodded. “Anyway, ain’t nothin’ wrong with wearin’ two belts. Sometimes you just gotta.” He laughed again at her brand new flush of embarrassment. 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean - it looked way better on you.” 

“I just can’t believe you remember what I wore.” 

Amanda looked away as she smoked and couldn’t fight the idea that perhaps she’d fallen into a trap of some kind. “I have a good memory.” 

“If you say so, Drummer.” 

“You ever miss the all-black look?” 

Martin shook his head. “All-black was before you. Before you was fun, but with you is funner. Plus my boots are better.” 

Amanda blushed at the compliment and matching warmth in Martin’s smile. “As long as you don’t have to tip any puke out, right?” 

“Right.” Martin looked at her for a long moment, the grin lingering, and he reached out carefully. His fingers traced over the little arrow pins on her jacket, slowly neatening Amanda’s lapel. “Gray suits you.” 

“Freedom suits me,” Amanda said softly. How did Martin’s face get so close? And how were his eyes so _bright?_

“That, too,” Martin agreed. His light grip on Amanda’s jacket encouraged her closer, but only if she wanted to, and his nose was telling him she did. 

Amanda caught the flare of his nostrils and the knowing grin. “That’s cheating,” she whispered. 

“Nah. Just trustin’ you.” Martin’s voice was so quiet but it still sent shivers down Amanda’s spine. “You gonna make me do all the work here?” 

Amanda grinned for a split second before closing the distance and pressing her lips to Martin’s. The kiss was inelegant, all sleepy smiles and cigarettes and a little growling, and Amanda wouldn’t have changed it for anything. 

A boot flew above them and they broke apart, laughing, to see Vogel missing a boot and the remaining Rowdy Three in various states of exaggerated disgust. Vogel pointed accusingly, shouting “you’re supposed to put a sock on the door!” 

“There’s no door, Vogel!” Amanda said for what felt like the hundredth time. 

Vogel was not about to be stopped by reality. “You’re _supposed_ to put a _sock_ on the _door_.” 

“He’s not going to let this go. You know we’re going to have to find somewhere with a door just to put a sock on it. ” Amanda looked up at Martin with a wicked glint in her eye. 

“Whatever you say, Drummer,” Martin grinned at her and leaned in for another kiss, only for another boot to go flying toward them. “You’re all outta boots Vogel!” 

“There’s nine point five more boots to go!” Gripps shouted triumphantly. 

“How do you get point five of a boot?” Amanda asked quietly. 

Martin rubbed the back of his neck and couldn’t keep from wincing. “Don’t ask.” 

“I have so many questions,” Amanda replied with a laugh, “but first, do you think a sock on a tree would count?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I saw [this blessed post](http://princessparadoxical.tumblr.com/post/173922447667/i-had-the-most-buck-wild-dream-the-other-night-and) and couldn't get the image out of my head. [I'm on Tumblr](https://everythingremainsconnected.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi <3


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